


Solids and Liquids

by Anonymous



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Desperation, M/M, Omorashi, The Odo/Quark is mostly on Quark's side here, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24985675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When he gets stuck in a turbolift with Quark, a recently solidified Odo falls victim to a very humanoid problem.(Please heed the tags!)
Relationships: Odo/Quark (Star Trek)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33
Collections: Anonymous





	Solids and Liquids

**Author's Note:**

> Final warning! If you aren't interested in omorashi, don't read this. If you don't know what omorashi is, definitely don't read this.  
> For those of you still here, this takes place around the beginning of season 5.

As Odo made his way to the turbolift, he couldn’t help but feel satisfied. He just had to run down to his office one more time to finish the last of his work, and then --

“Just a minute!” called someone.

Of course, who else would it be but Quark. The Ferengi eyed Odo as he took his place in the turbolift, clearly equally displeased by the situation. “Ugh. Of course, when I wanna use the turbolift _you_ need it. What, are you tailing me?”

Odo didn’t bother pointing out that he’d been in the turbolift first. “I am heading to my office, Quark, for your information. Happily, the world doesn’t revolve around your personal needs.”

Quark rolled his eyes. “Promenade,” he commanded the turbolift. “What are you going down there this late for, anyway? Now that you’re a _humanoid_ , I’d assume you’d want to sleep occasionally.”

“I have work to do,” said Odo. The nature of his position didn’t always allow for normal hours. A fact which he was certain Quark knew, and was just asking about to get on his nerves. “But I could ask you the same question.”

“I have business to conduct,” said Quark. “Urgent business. I have to pick up a shipment, and it’s bad form to be late to meet a client.”

“Ah, yes. I’m sure your perfectly legitimate client won’t be happy to be kept waiting when you pick up your shipment at - Computer, what time is it?”

“The time is now 2308 hours,” said the computer. 

“I resent your implication, Odo! You know that I strive to conduct a clean and honest business.”

“Yes, because we both know how clean and honest you were last week, when you were arrested for unlawful possession of cortropine with the intent to distribute.”

“That was an honest mistake! I was told that it was going to be used for legitimate medical purposes.”

“Hmph. A mistake, certainly, but not an honest one.”

Quark opened his mouth to respond, but as he did, the turbolift jerked to a halt and the lights went out. They were in complete darkness for a moment, until a small emergency light flickered on. “What the hell?”

Odo hit his combadge. “Odo to Engineering.”

“Bhaumik here,” came a voice. “Everything alright, sir?”

“Our turbolift has stopped.”

“Just a moment.” Bhaumik said. After a moment, she said, “Sorry about that. Seems that there’s been a power cut to that turbolift.”

“A _power cut ?_ ” Quark asked, incredulous. “This kind of thing hasn’t happened since the Federation first got here!”

“How did this happen, Lieutenant?”

“Appears to be a mechanical issue.” Lieutenant Bhaumik sounded apologetic. “I’ll send somebody down to fix it right away. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Alright. See to it,” sighed Odo.

“I can’t believe this!” complained Quark. “This thing hasn’t been stuck in years, and it happens to break down when I’m in it, with _you_!”

“I suppose your _business_ will have to wait,” Odo smirked. Quark huffed.

Odo would have been more pleased at Quark’s annoyance, if not for the panging urge coming from his lower abdomen. He shifted, pressing his thighs together imperceptibly.

Life as a humanoid required attention to many details he had once taken for granted. Though Odo had adjusted to most of them, there was one urge which still bothered him: the constant need to urinate. Several times a day, he’d gathered, was normal; but he still found it difficult. The discomfort which grew over hours, the inevitable repetition of the task, the knowledge that whenever you drank something, it would trickle its way downwards... And once it did, it would sit there, pooling in the pit of your stomach until the urge to _release_ became overwhelming.

Odo had a vague idea that this wasn’t supposed to be as intolerable as he found it to be, so he’d made an appointment with Dr. Bashir to discuss the issue.

“Of course, you _can_ hold it in in an emergency. But I don’t suggest you make a habit of it,” Bashir had explained. “It leaves you prone to infections.”

“So I’m meant to go running to the toilet every time I have the slightest need? That’s hardly sustainable.” 

“You’re likely still learning to tolerate the urge. I could write you a prescription if it’s really causing you that much trouble, but unless it’s interfering with your daily routine, I suggest you give it time. If it makes you feel better, every _humanoid_ on this station has probably had a few close calls at one time or another.” Bashir had smiled in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring.

Odo was reluctant to ask Bashir too much more about the subject of _holding it in_ , though he was sure the doctor would have been professional about it. That quip about close calls, however, was now echoing in his mind, as he became uncomfortably aware of how many liquids he’d consumed this evening. A few raktajinos to aid his work, and plenty of water to avoid dehydration…

He’d been planning to take a break to relieve himself before he got to work; Odo hadn’t given it much thought, figuring he’d take care of it. But now, stuck inside this turbolift, the urge was definitely there, and certainly uncomfortable. He hadn’t anticipated such a long wait. How long had Bhaumik meant by ‘not long’? Never mind what Dr. Bashir had said about infections, which was alarming enough by itself; he wasn’t even sure of his body’s capabilities yet.

Odo resolved to do everything in his power to make the situation easier for his body. He slid down to the floor, leaning his body on the back wall and holding his legs close. As he waited, he tried to center himself, focusing on the surrounding darkness, the silence except for the hum of Deep Space 9 below them --

Quark interrupted. “Bhaumik didn’t say exactly how long these repairs would take, did she?”

Odo sighed, closing his eyes in irritation. “No, she didn’t.”

“Why don’t you ask her? I’ve got places to be. My client, remember? It won’t be professional if I’m late to meet him.”

“I’m not asking her anything. She’s a busy woman, something which you probably don’t understand.” Quark began to object, but Odo continued. “And frankly, I could not care less about your client’s feelings. Now be quiet for once. I’ve had enough of your mindless prattle.”

“Well, no need to get snappy.” If Odo was going to be like that, Quark wasn’t going to waste his effort trying to make conversation. 

Minutes passed. Quark looked over at Odo out of the corner of his eye. Odo was sitting in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest. His posture was as rigid as usual, no surprises there. Oddly, though, Odo seemed to be bouncing his thigh slightly, a quick, snappy motion. And did he look a bit nervous? Quark would have written the fidgeting off as a nervous habit, but he knew most of Odo’s habits and didn’t recognize that one. Unless it was a new humanoid thing?

No, it was something else. The way he was doing it, the way he almost looked self conscious and embarrassed… it reminded Quark of something. He almost looked like somebody who needed to use the --

It clicked then in Quark’s mind. “Odo, do you need to take a leak?”

“And if I do?”

“Ha! That’s what’s bothering you!”

“It is not _bothering_ me.”

“No wonder you’re so grumpy. I mean, even more than usual.”

Odo scoffed, but Quark kept going. “I wonder how long Bhaumik meant by ‘not very long’ anyway? You think you can hold it that long?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re right. It’ll probably be fine. Just don’t think about…” Quark let his voice trail off.

Odo hadn’t been a humanoid long enough to not fall for this trap. “About?”

“About, oh I don’t know…. Water pouring into a glass, or the sound of a rushing river, or waterfalls....”

“ _Quark._ ”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop. What, you worried you can’t hold it?” Quark meant the comment flippantly, but he couldn’t deny that a bit of excitement was forming in his stomach. It was rare that between the two of them, Odo should be the one on the end of an embarrassing situation.

Unsurprisingly, Odo didn’t seem to be enjoying the situation nearly as much. “Hmph. Unlike you, I’m not so weak that I need to cave in to the slightest urge.”

It would have sounded convincing if not for the slight edge his voice had developed. _Doesn’t seem so slight, Odo_ , Quark thought to himself, suppressing a grin.

Each minute seemed to be an eternity. While Odo had been able to ignore the urge before, now it was at the forefront of his mind, no thanks to Quark’s teasing. He’d heard his human coworkers use a certain expression before, to have their back teeth floating; now, he knew what it felt like. As it grew stronger, it almost felt like it was making its way downward… like if he didn’t do something about it soon, it would be coming out whether he consented or not.

The turbolift jolted. Odo exhaled sharply, an involuntary gesture. Quark, surprised, looked over. “That bad?” he questioned.

Odo didn’t respond. Quark frowned; if Odo didn’t have the will to yell at him, it was never a good sign. He took a long look at Odo, who was holding his face in his hands. Was he in pain? Or was he really just that ashamed? Of course, Quark didn’t mind seeing him embarrassed, but actually distressed...

Of course, Quark didn’t feel _sympathy_ for Odo’s situation. Of course not. He was enjoying every minute of his suffering… wait, why was he getting hard? It couldn’t have anything to do with Odo. Admittedly, he’d always had a bit of a fetish for this kind of situation, but with Odo? No way. The oxygen levels in this turbolift must have been getting low. Yes, that was right. His brain was being affected. He definitely didn’t care about Odo’s suffering.

“You could try concentrating on something else?” he suggested. Odo was staring off to the side, but in the darkness, Quark couldn’t make out his expression.

“Yes, thank you for your brilliant suggestion,” snapped Odo. “I certainly wouldn’t have been able to think of that myself.”

“Jeez, just trying to help.” What did Quark care? He didn’t care how Odo looked almost vulnerable curled up on the floor of the turbolift, or how Odo’s bladder must have been so full, so painfully and mortifyingly full for him to be willing to show any signs of desperation at all. How Odo had probably never been this full in his life.

Odo, in fact, _knew_ that his bladder had never been this full. At this point, he was beginning to panic. Why was he being punished like this? As if all the other petty indignities of being forced into life as a solid weren’t enough, now he was stuck in a turbolift, desperately needing to urinate and with no way to release. He wasn’t equipped for this life, for this body. He couldn’t deal with the most basic task of all. Even little humanoid children knew how to hold their bladders, and here Odo wasn’t capable of it. The sensation was strange, uncomfortable yet so obscene that it almost felt pleasurable. It felt warm, almost heavy, as if he had a warm water balloon inside him. Like if he were to press down on it slightly, it would come rushing out uncontrollably.

Moreover, why did this have to happen in front of Quark? It would have been bad enough to be in this situation with anyone else, but if -- and it was looking more and more distinctly to be a real possibility at this point -- he lost control and had an accident (Odo hated that term) right here, Quark would never respect him again. Not that he cared about Quark’s opinion of him, but the knowledge that Quark would see him at his absolute lowest, his most vulnerable…. That Quark would know how weak he’d become.

He couldn’t help but think back to when he’d been stuck in that turbolift with Lwaxana, so long ago. When he’d been desperately trying to hold his form, until she reassured him that it was fine, that he could let it go… but there was no way he’d be able to let it go in this situation. Not if he was alone, and especially not in front of Quark. The idea was unthinkable. Quark would mock him for the rest of his life.

Odo must have looked really pathetic, because he found that Quark was kneeling down next to him. He didn’t bother looking at Quark’s face; or, more realistically, he couldn’t bear to.

“Hey, you know, I don’t -” Quark seemed confused about what he wanted to say. He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.” He hesitated before continuing. “I know that… um, adjusting hasn’t been so easy for you -”

“Oh, do you?” Odo’s voice dripped with derision.

“Hey, I’m trying to be _nice._ ”

“Well, you can keep your so-called kindness to yourself,” Odo seethed. He stood up, as difficult as it was. “Let’s call it what it really is, why don’t we? Mockery. Go on! Mock me as much as you want.”

Quark stood in turn. “What kind of person do you think I am, Odo? I’m not going to mock you.”

“I don’t think you want to know the answer to that question,” said Odo. “But I know you’re enjoying every second of this.”

There was a silence. When Quark’s voice finally came through the darkness, it seemed to lack its usual airs. “I’m not. Not in the way you think.”

“Then _what are you doing_?”

Quark hesitated. “I -”

Whatever Quark was about to say (he wasn’t sure he knew) neither of them would ever know, because just then the light switched back on and the turbolift bounced back to life.

“Well, looks like my business didn’t have to wait so long after all,” said Quark inanely. He didn’t think he could bear to look at Odo so desperate in the light; but despite himself, he couldn’t help but peek from the corner of his eye. 

Odo was standing, in his characteristic stiff way. He would have looked almost normal to most, but Quark could see the tension in his face, and couldn’t help but notice how suspiciously deep Odo had plunged his hand into his pocket, how he’d pushed his legs together. But despite the fact that Quark knew he was on the brink of wetting himself, he refused to show any sign of distress. 

Odo would deny having any sense of vanity to the end, but he was so image conscious; he couldn’t bear showing the slightest sign of how desperate he was. _But he did let you see it,_ said a voice in Quark’s head. _Not by choice, but he let you._

The awkwardness of the moment was palpable; Quark knowing how Odo was probably dying for a toilet, but not showing it; meanwhile, Odo had to pretend Quark didn’t know, either. Luckily for both of them, it only was a moment; the turbolift stopped again, and then they were on the promenade.

Odo didn’t say another word to Quark. He instead took off; not in a run like he wanted to, but in a brisk walk. Even at such a late hour, there was no way he was going to let those stragglers still on the promenade (and especially not Quark) see him running for a toilet.

Quark watched in awe as Odo continued his walk; swift as usual, yet a definite stiffness. Most wouldn’t realize anything was off about him, but to Quark’s eye, his discomfort was evident. For a moment, a wild fantasy flashed through his mind of following Odo, causing him some distraction or another, forcing him to hold it even longer, until the natural conclusion arrived...

No, what was he thinking? Quark had to be losing his mind. He could think about Odo wetting himself later. It wasn’t a sexual thing, definitely not with Odo of all people. He just wanted to see Odo knocked down a peg. Never mind that he was hard. Quark couldn’t think about this any longer; he had a pickup waiting, and he’d lost enough profit to Odo in the past to allow it to happen again.

There was a bathroom, lucky for Odo, down the corridor between his office and the holding cells. He had security posted, of course, in front of the cells, but he was unlikely to see anyone else at this hour. As the door to his office opened, Odo allowed himself to stumble as he fell into its safety. 

At this, his need seemed to surge uncontrollably, as if the safety of the location increased the urgency. But he was here. He’d made it; he wasn’t going to suffer the final degradation of wetting himself. Now relieved, he hurried on his way to the bathroom --

\-- and in his eagerness, Odo stumbled. He managed to catch himself before he fell to the floor, landing on his knees. As he tried to lift himself up, he found his legs shook with the effort, as if his body had doubled in weight. _Focus!_ he reprimanded himself. He could still do this, he could still make it, if he pulled himself together.

But as he attempted to regain his footing, another wave of desperation surged through his lower stomach, and he could _feel_ his muscles giving up, releasing of their own accord. Odo physically couldn’t stop it, no matter how much he might try. “No,” he gasped. He wouldn’t accept defeat now. He was so close. _So close!_

Yet for his body, it simply wasn’t close enough. Odo felt the rush of warmth in his pants before he fully processed what it was; the feeling of wetness was secondary. He grabbed himself tightly, but it was no use. Now that it had started, he could do nothing to stop it. His bladder was _emptying._ He had no choice but to accept that he was wetting himself.

It was a bizarre sensation; relief, pleasure, and utter humiliation all at once. The warm liquid made its way through layer after layer of his clothing; he tried to stop the stream, though he knew it was a lost cause; his disloyal body wouldn’t allow him to shut it off. Still, he tried; he didn’t want to give in.

But some primal physical urge had overcome his will. He couldn’t help but pant, the feeling of shame and disgust and relief altogether at once as warmth spread down his legs and pooled into his boots. Odo couldn’t think straight. He cursed his irresponsibility in consuming all that liquid without a concern for where it would go; he cursed engineering for not fixing the turbolift fast enough; he cursed the other Changelings for trapping him in this solid state; most of all, he cursed himself, for his own uselessness.

Finally, as he thought his torture might never end, the stream tapered off (though to his disgust, there were a few false stops before this.) He was well aware that he was overreacting, yet he couldn’t help but hate himself. The undeniable proof that he was nothing without his powers was right in front of him; more accurately, he was sitting in it.

After a minute or so, Odo forced himself to stand. His legs felt weak; staring at the puddle and feeling the wet fabric clinging to his legs, he suddenly felt deeply unsure of himself, of what he should do (a sensation he was becoming too familiar with at this point.) Should he clean the floor first, or himself? Finally, he made his way to the replicator and got a new uniform. He was going to shower regardless, but he wasn’t going to walk to his quarters looking like a fool.

Peeling off his wet trousers, he found he could think of only one consolation. At least Quark hadn’t seen this.


End file.
